Meeting Persephone

I watched the season finale of 'The Bachelorette' last night (don't judge me). Perfectly orchestrated romantic proposal as is supposed to happen after these completely contrived relationships progress and are edited for our viewing "pleasure". I'm not invested in it but figure since I don't like the CSI, cop, hospital shows that seem to be bombarding the television schedules of late, I watch this garbage instead. It's the only actual "reality show" I watch. Anyway, the proposal comes and there is one line that always sticks out to me when I hear it - "I want to grow old with you". HA!


Two young healthy people have no idea what that line means - not really. They imagine their beloved with some grey streaks in their hair, a few crow's feet, and maybe less firm than the perky body they live in right now in this lovely moment. They imagine themselves in the same way. They sit in rocking chairs on the front porch watching their grandchildren chasing each other around the yard, each of them sipping fresh made lemonade and wearing cardigans. Her hair in a neat little bun on her head and he'd look semi dashing with is silver streaked moustache. They smile, reach out for one another's hand and.... scene.


What they don't imagine is stroke, cancer, chronic illnesses. They don't imagine permanent paralysis or having to clean their loved one's body after they've shit themselves. They can't conceive of a time when teeth rot and pain disables to the point of immobility. And finally death and loss so profound that words cannot express what they do to those left behind.


Don't get me wrong - there is incredible honour in caring for the one you love and there is tenderness and compassion between the two of you that can't be cultivated in the same way when everything is perfect in those younger years. But you can't imagine it when you're young and healthy and when it does finally hit you're seldom prepared. And there are losses that come before the loss of your mate.


When my husband and I got together we both had most of our family well intact. He'd lost one grandmother but the rest of our grandparents were still living. Within our first 2 years the rest of his grandparents were gone and one of my grandfathers died 3 years after that. Then 2 years ago I lost my remaining grandfather. My grandmothers are still living but are declining rapidly. One has advanced Alzheimer's and the other is just wearing out. Losing them is heartbreaking. But then it gets worse.


In eight months we've lost my husband's step-father, his mother was diagnosed with lung cancer etc., he was in an accident when he went out to visit her and say good-bye to his uncle and a week later his uncle died the day after our 17 wedding anniversary.


But now our most difficult time is upon us. His mother's cancer is progressing rapidly and with the other chronic illnesses her body already endures it is all taking its toll on her much sooner than we were prepared for. One would always like to maintain hope during times like this but the fact of the matter is that there is little hope. I have one hope and that is to get him out to her in the next couple of months and hopefully this isn't too late. And while we wait - wait for another doctor's report, wait to hear about her daily decline, wait for treatment results, wait for her to figure out how she wants to proceed - I must support him. I'm glad to do it but there is no way of knowing how to do it properly - I can only gauge by his reactions. Sometimes reality is bearing down on us and it becomes overwhelming. We're all losing so much - he's losing his mother, my daughter is losing her grandmother, and I am losing so much more than I would have thought possible of a mother-in-law.


Our evenings are now spent fielding phone calls from his sister and making phone calls to his mother despite the fact that they're in the same house. The calls to/from his sister must be on the sly because it offends his mother that they talk about her. The calls to his mom are increasingly difficult because delusions are already setting in and her ability to track conversation, time, and her general cognitive functions are beginning to fail. He must serve as the venting box for his sister and his mother - I must serve as his.

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Oh the difference a day makes. Often times we say that as a positive thing. You go to sleep, wake up, and suddenly are given a fresh view on the world and it's much improved than the hopelessness and despair you felt the night before. Unfortunately this is not one of those times.

I received a message from my husband on Windows Live saying nothing more than "FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" after he'd told me minutes ago that he was talking to his sister. I told him not to waste time on the messenger - just call me immediately. Through his tear choked voice he had little positive to say. My mother in law had a doctor's appointment this morning and her decline is even more rapid than we were led to believe. Her doctor is insisting that she be placed in 24 hour care - hospice and we're looking at weeks.

I feel my heart being ripped out of my chest right now just having to think of my world without her in it let alone how devastating this will be for my husband and daughter. I can't even wrap my brain around it all and the decline was so fast that we are all caught off guard.

I have to figure out a way to wrangle things so we can get to Denver ASAP instead of early autumn as I'd planned.

That's all I've got. I've worked on this mess of a post for two days now and I'm just going to publish it as it is. I don't have the energy or mental capacity to do anymore with it.

The Trash Heap has spoken.